Beauty And Deceit
by JadedDragon4
Summary: It's her 7th year at Hogwarts and Hermione finally goes out to get what she wants . . . not matter how deceitful she has to be.  Hot, sexy, Dramoine. Adult language and graphic sexual situations. Mature audiences only.  Please read and review!
1. Needs And Wants

**Prologue:**

**Needs and Wants**

I don't know what possessed me to do it.

No . . . that's a lie.

I knew _exactly _what possessed me to do it: I was tired of being "little Miss Goody two-shoes." I was sick of spending all of my time in the library—studying—instead of experiencing life. I was sick of always doing as I was told. I was sick of always worrying about my actions and the consequences that would follow.

I was sick of being with guys who kissed me, who touched me, who made _love _to me like I was made of glass . . . like I was absolutely fragile . . . like I would break.

Really, I was just sick of being good—always so Goddamned good.

I had had enough. And finally, I just snapped.

I had needs . . . I had wants:

I _needed_ to feel alive.

I _needed _to feel good.

I neededto feel a thick piece of hardened flesh throbbing between my thighs.

I needed it rough and tumble—completely animalistic—with no remorse or discretion. And with no strings attached.

To put it crudely: I needed to be fucked.

Not romanced . . . not loved . . . not swept off of my feet . . . Hell, not even respected.

Just fucked.

Biting, sucking, licking, slapping, scratching, grunting, moaning, screaming.

F-U-C-K-E-D.

And I knew exactly _who_ I wanted it from.

He had been the object of my obsession for years. It had happened quickly . . . and entirely unexpectedly. One minute, he was dead to me—completely invisible . . . a shadow . . . a nothing—and the next . . . .

Well, let's just say that my eyes had been opened.

School had started like every other year. It was exciting to see everyone again after such a long break . . . well, almost everyone. When I first caught sight of him on the train, I was prepared for the wave of contempt that normally washed over me. I was prepared to feel the familiar feeling of loathing . . . of absolute hate . . . .

But then, I took a closer look . . . and I wasn't prepared for what I felt.

It was a completely foreign feeling to me . . . one that I couldn't quite describe in words . . . and I found myself staring at him, my eyes slowly roaming his body—tracing his features—in an attempt to put my finger on this new reaction that I was experiencing.

The summer had been good to him.

The summer . . . _and_ his years of playing Quidditch, no doubt. He had grown taller, yet his body stayed lean and slim—muscular. He was dressed in a dark suit—tailored to fit his body perfectly. He was pristine—immaculate in every way.

His skin was still pale—unnaturally pale—and flawless. But his face had thinned out, causing it to lose some of the boyish quality. His jaw line was strong and masculine—serious as he flipped nonchalantly through some papers.

His hair had grown too. And he had chosen to wear it differently. Instead of being pulled back—slicked against his skull—it now laid shaggily against his forehead—hanging slightly in his eyes. It looked silky and smooth as he flipped it from his face with a shake of his head.

And his eyes.

I had never taken notice of them before that moment. Not even during all of the times that I had been nose to nose with him . . . staring him down in hatred.

His eyes were the purest shade of silver that I had ever seen. They shone brightly from behind heavily covering eyelids.

I remember being mesmerized by him—mesmerized by his strength, by his seclusion, by his secrecy.

And it never got better.

Year after year, the feelings remained—got stronger even —until it became a total obsession. I wanted to be with him, wanted to touch him, wanted to have him touch me.

I found that I put myself into situations just in order to be closer to him. And the things that used to make me detest him—every insult, every contemptuous glare, every snide remark—didn't repulse me anymore. Instead, they only seemed to fuel the fire.

Fuel the desire.

I spent years lusting after him, but I knew that there was no way of it ever happening. He would never want me . . . would never soil _his_ name by uttering _mine_. And I accepted that in quiet compliance.

Until now.

It was my last year in school and he had been my fixation for too long. I had fantasized about an intimate encounter with him for too long—fantasized about what he would be like in bed . . . how he would be stronger than the other boys I had been with. How he would be more experienced. How he would know exactly how to touch me to make me scream. How his tight, hard body would feel under my fingers.

And too many times, I was forced to resort to masturbation to ease the ache that I felt for too long—my fingers never quite satisfying me as well as he could . . . as well as his stiffened manhood could.

So, this was the year that it was going to change. I was determined.

I just didn't know how.

But, I was a smart witch. I just needed to figure out a plan.

It shouldn't be difficult. I just needed one night, I was sure of it. Just one night, and I could put my obsession behind me. It's like when you get a song stuck in your head . . . stuck for days . . . yet, as soon as you hear it, it just disappears. Just like that. You just need to experience it once. I just needed to experience _him _once and I and know that I would finally feel fulfilled . . . my desires would go away.

So, it was decided. By the end of the year, it was going to happen: Draco Malfoy was going to fuck me.

I just needed a plan.


	2. Phases

_A/N: Disclaimer: As always, I'm a terrible person for not posting any sooner, but here I am! First, I forgot to put this in my last post . . . I was just too excited to get it published! So, just in case there are any questions: I'm not J.K. Rowling . . . nor do I own Harry Potter or any of its characters. I just manipulate them sadistically for my own (and your) pleasure _

_Speaking of being too excited to post, I apologize for any errors that occurred with the spacing. They are not in my copies, but I did not notice that Fanfiction added (or deleted, for that matter) spaces. Finally, it was brought to my attention that the timeline may have appeared a little "off." I promise you, Hermione is of a "proper" age and not 13 years old during this story *shudder* Trust me, I'm not trying to slut her up . . . well, not slut her up _that _bad. I never even realized that it was a little confusing until I read it again—hey, it made sense in my head *wink* _

_Please remember, it is just a story—and a mature one at that—so take it for its entertainment value. Oh, and please read and review. You readers are the most invaluable thing ever!_

_Thanks and Happy Thanksgiving!_

**Chapter 1:**

**Phases**

It took awhile for the plan to come to me.

I rifled through such ideas as love potions, transfigurations, and invisibility cloaks. Night after night, I spent poring over library books—researching spells, charms, and herbal remedies. Yet, all possessed their flaws.

But finally, the perfect plot manifested in my mind. It was quite simple . . . too simple, actually . . . and surprisingly, after I opened my mind to all possibilities, it came easier than I anticipated.

I knew that it was a complicated plan, but I had done it before . . . so it had to be easier, right? I knew the mistakes I had made and I _wouldn't_ make them again.

I was even able to ignore the nagging voice inside of my head—the voice that screamed at me that this was completely insane . . . completely dangerous . . . and completely against the rules.

I was just sick of caring.

That . . . and my torrid lust overshadowed my logic.

So, I began spending my nights crammed in Myrtle's lonely bathroom once more.

The smell, the heat, the excitement of making the Polyjuice potion all came rushing back to me. Like a rogue tidal wave, it crashed over me—creating insatiable anticipation—but I had to be patient. Yet more importantly, I had to be _meticulous_, carefully copying the complex potion.

I couldn't make any mistakes.

I couldn't afford to.

Slowly, the days ticked by, and as they did, my excitement escalated. Everything seemed to be going to plan.

And finally, after nearly a month of focused preparation, it was time.

Phase 1 was complete.

Now, I just needed to choose a target—choose who I would become . . . who Draco wouldn't question sleeping with.

The answer was easy:

Pansy Parkinson was the only one that made sense.

She was always with Draco—I watched how they interacted in class and the Great Hall . . . how she followed him around like a sad little puppy, worshipping the ground he walked on . . . and I came to the decision that there was no way that they weren't fucking on the side.

Additionally, to solidify my decision—to merely reinforce that fact that the Fates had chosen her for me—she was miraculously going to be gone over the weekend . . . some family thing. I didn't really care what or why. I just took it as a blatant, fortuitous sign that this was supposed to happen.

It was now or never.

I knew what I had to do, but I couldn't risk a repeat of the last time I ingested Polyjuice Potion. So this time, I made sure that the hair that I collected was _hers—_

I ripped it directly from her Goddamned head.

I hadn't really planned it that way. It just kinda _happened_.

It was just like the Fates were still guiding me . . . possessing my actions to make the entire scheme come to life.

Walking down the hallway toward my next class, I was lost in thought contemplating how I was going to make everything come together, when a boisterous uproar of laughter snapped me from my thoughts.

Pansy, in all her glory, was suddenly presented to me.

Gift-wrapped, even.

She was surrounded by a hoard of Slytherin girls and was coming from the opposite direction—completely oblivious of my existence.

The thought came fast and unexpected—and it was a thought that was completely out of character.

But, oddly enough, I didn't hesitate for one instant. In fact, it only heightened the surge of adrenaline that I had been feeling ever since I began to put my plan in motion.

Lengthening my stride, I felt my pulse quicken—my heart beating painfully inside of my chest; thundering so loudly against my ribs, I was afraid that the other students walking beside me could hear it.

Yet, even if they did, they gave no inclination that they had any notion of what I was about to do.

Stealthily, I wiped my sweaty palms against the fabric of my skirt, before walking directly at her. In one smooth motion, I bumped against her shoulder, twisted my fingers into her hair, and yanked violently.

It felt surprisingly good.

Her scream bounced off of the stone walls and her friends immediately surrounded her in concern as she made a terrible ruckus, but I merely shrugged in mock apology and walked away clenching my prize—a few strands of her dark, greasy hair.

I felt like I was flying as a new wave of adrenaline flowed through my veins.

This was actually happening . . . Phase 2 complete . . . and I felt giddy at the mere thought.

Getting a uniform was easy enough, too—and much less violent. After supper, I simply waltzed into the utility room and swiped one from the laundry.

That night, I lay in bed, my eyes open and unseeing in the dark, thinking about the events of the day. I hadn't broken this many rules by myself in my entire life and I was bubbly at my new found confidence.

Tomorrow, everything was going to come together. I had no fear of anything going awry.

I was so excited, I couldn't sleep.

I couldn't stop thinking about the stolen robe hidden at the bottom of my trunk, just at the end of my bed. It poisoned my mind until I finally snuck out of bed and pulled it out.

Checking over my shoulder to ensure my roommates were asleep, I slipped the foreign garment on.

It hung from my body in ways that I wasn't used to—loose fitting around the waist, the hem hitting higher up on my calves. Pansy was similar in body shape to me—a little shorter, a little stockier, yes—but nothing too incredibly difficult to hide.

Moving surreptitiously across the room, I stood silently in front of the mirror. Even in the dim moonlit room, I could see my reflection and felt as if I were staring at a stranger.

And in a way, I was.

I wasn't acting like myself—I was being manipulative and devious, and wearing the uniform that bared the colors of my sworn enemies was only tangible proof.

The emerald green crest lined in metallic silver suddenly seemed to shine from the lapel of the robe and I fingered it gingerly.

It was as if a bolt of lightening suddenly traveled the length of my body and I gasped in surprise.

My body tingled unexpectedly—pleasurable waves pulsating over my flesh, causing my skin to feel alive as I ran my fingers over the smooth threads.

Closing my eyes, I imagined my fingers running over the crest that rested on Draco's strong, firm chest. Imagined standing near enough to take in his presence, his scent . . . his desire.

And then I imagined _his_ hands trailing over my own Slytherin crest—his hands coming torturously close to my breast.

Breathing heavily, I felt my mouth go dry as my own hands brushed against my sensitive nipple. It stood erect, pushing against the thin fabric of my nightgown.

I suddenly felt weak as liquid heat pooled between my thighs as I slowly palmed the swollen mound—pressing down to lessen the new urges that were now causing my body to react.

Panting slightly, I opened my eyes, as a fresh surge of excitement flowed over me. Licking my lips, I smiled at the imposter in the Slytherin clothes.

Phase 3 was complete.

Leaning heavily on my hand, I picked aimlessly at my food.

I wasn't hungry.

In fact, I was completely out of sorts all day.

I had woken before the sun. Too excited to sleep, I dressed quickly, and made my way down to the Common Rom. Settling in a large, plush arm chair I silently watched the sun rise—throwing pink and orange streaks across the Lake. Like paint swirling down a drain, the colors mixed and blended, twisting first from a crimson red to pink to orange and finally to a blinding yellow as the full capacity of the sun illuminated the day.

But it wasn't just any day . . . . It was t_he_ day.

It had finally come—today I was going to become Pansy and seduce Draco.

I remember feeling a burst of excitement travel the length of my body. Taking a deep breath, I had calmed myself. It wasn't worth getting too eager this early.

I had to wait for the end of the day.

Classes went by torturously slow and I had trouble concentrating on what my professors were saying.

I knew that Harry and Ron were worried—they kept stealing sideways glances at me when I didn't jump at the chance to answer every question proposed by our teachers.

And finally, at dinner, Harry couldn't contain himself anymore.

"You feeling okay, 'Mione?"

"Hmmm?" Torn from my thoughts, I looked up confused.

"Are you okay?" He repeated the words slowly, his emerald green eyes searching my face in worry. "You seem . . . out of it today."

I shook my head, a fake smile spreading across my face. "No, I'm fine."

Ron and Harry shared a look that they thought I didn't see.

"You haven't touched your food." Ron looked down at the full plate in front of me.

Picking up my fork, I had all intentions of taking a bite to prove Ron wrong, but instead, I found myself just pushing the food around indolently.

Finally, I sighed and dropped the fork in defeat. "I guess I'm just not that hungry," I said with a shrug.

If that wasn't true before, it certainly was now . . . There was no room for food in my stomach because a giant knot had suddenly formed and was now lodged deep within my abdomen.

Draco had just walked in.

I felt light headed as I watched him walk across the Great Hall toward the Slytherin table. Brooding, a deep scowl etched across his porcelain face, he walked before his cohorts like a King. The crowd parted like he was royalty and he finally got to his normal spot and sat down.

I was suddenly stuck with a flash of panic.

I hadn't paid any attention as to whether Pansy was at the table or not, and I was abruptly paralyzed with fear that she hadn't left campus and was nestled among her housemates, sitting in her regular chair next to Draco—draped all over him and hanging on his every word.

I cursed my ignorance as my eyes quickly scanned the Slytherin table.

But, to my relief, I saw no sign of her.

I relaxed slightly, but I found that I couldn't tear my gaze from Draco. Using my peripherals, I watched him out of the corner of my eye.

He was bent over his plate, his shaggy hair falling in front of his face, covering his eyes. Taking a small bite, he chewed slowly, uninterested in his surroundings. I focused on his jaw-line—strong and tense . . . and watched, breathless, as his lips parted, his tongue darting out to moisten his lips.

Crabbe and Goyle said something that I couldn't hear and were suddenly laughing.

Draco looked up in annoyance.

Shaking the hair from his face, he narrowed his eyes. His silvery glare, as cold as ice, seemed to go right through them and find me.

Even from across the room, I could see how brilliantly bright his eyes were—a magnificent sterling—and I couldn't help but notice the emotion . . . the _power_ . . . that seemed to radiate from them.

I felt warmth radiate from my womb, blanketing my body before settling at the apex of my thighs.

I squeezed my legs together and moaned lightly at the friction.

As if he heard me, Draco's eyes suddenly shifted until his gaze was boring directly at me.

The look lasted only a moment, but that was all it took.

With a gasp, I tore my eyes from his and immediately turned my attention to the top of the table, heat spreading up my neck and into my cheeks.

My lungs suddenly started to burn and I realized that, inadvertently, I had been holding my breath.

Shakily, I exhaled.

"Earth to Hermione!"

Ron's fingers snapping in front of my face brought me hurtling back to reality. I looked up sheepishly.

"Are you feeling okay?"

My mouth was so dry that I couldn't form any words, so I merely nodded.

Harry leaned in. "Are you sure? You look a little flushed."

Bringing my hands to my face, I felt my cheeks. They burned hot under my cool fingertips. The corner of my mouth twitched in embarrassment. "Perhaps I'm not feeling the best."

Without thinking, my eyes darted back to Draco. He was no longer focused in my direction. Quickly, I shifted my gaze back to Harry. He didn't appear to notice the slight transfer of attention.

Licking my lips nervously, I cleared my throat. "Maybe it would be best if I go lie down for awhile."

I pushed myself from the table, stepping over the bench before anyone had the chance to protest.

Slowly, I began to back away. "I'm sure it's nothing . . . I'll be good as new in the morning."

_If they only knew . . . . _

And with a hasty "goodnight," I hurried out of the Great Hall, being mindful to keep my head down as I passed the Slytherin table and the silvery stare of Draco Malfoy.

Up in my dorm, I lay in bed, my blankets pulled up to my chin.

I wasn't tired . . . nor was I ill. I hadn't even changed out of my clothes from supper. I had just crawled into bed and was now waiting.

So, surrounded in darkness, I ran through my plan—over and over—making sure that every last detail was in place as I watched the clock slowly tick by.

When my roommates came up for bed, I pretended to be asleep.

They dressed swiftly and wordlessly without light and I waited impatiently until their breathing became deep and even.

As their bodies soon found rest, quieting for the night, mine woke up.

Excitement twisted in my gut—like a million butterflies taking flight—and I inhaled deeply, pulling air deep within my lungs to calm myself.

It was time.

Gently, I threw the blankets from me and swung my legs over the side of the bed. Standing, I padded to my trunk, lifted the lid silently, and pulled out Pansy's uniform.

Tiptoeing, I made my way toward the door. It took all I had not to run.

I grasped the handle lightly and twisted.

To my horror, is groaned loudly beneath my hand.

Pausing—my heart in my throat—I strained my ears and listened.

One of my roommates stirred lightly in her sleep and I found myself holding my breath once more. With my eyes closed, I willed silence over the room, until I finally heard her settle once more.

Exhaling slowly, I paused for an additional moment to make sure that she was once again asleep. Then, with one final quarter turn of the handle, I pushed the door open and hurried out the door.

Squinting in the bright light, I glanced around quickly before slinking silently down the stairs.

It wasn't terribly late, and I was worried about meeting my housemates in the Common Room. But thankfully, as I neared the bottom of the stairs, the Fates were with me once more as the room was still.

Crossing the space quickly, I ducked through the Fat Lady's portrait and out into the hall.

Twisting my head, first this way than that, I scoured the hallway for any sign of Filch or Mrs. Norris and when I was confident they weren't around, I hurried down to Myrtle's Bathroom.

Slipping inside, I leaned heavily against the door, trying to catch my breath. Pressing my hand tightly against my chest, I could feel my heart pounding and I couldn't determine if it was from the running, or the mere excitement of what I knew was to come.

Muttering a quick locking charm at the door, I dropped the robes on the floor and began my preparation.

My hands were shaking as I began to unbutton my shirt. Pulling the fabric from my arms, I shivered in the dank chill of the lavatory. Pushing through the cold, I shimmied out of my skirt.

I suddenly felt self-conscious—clad only in my thin bra and panties—and I wished that I had checked the bathroom for other students.

It was a foolish thought—and I knew it as soon as it manifested in my head. Nobody used this space, let alone at this time of night, but it still did not help the feeling of being exposed.

Using only will-power, I shrugged the nagging sense aside as best as I could and hurriedly unhooked my bra and let it fall to the floor. My nipples stood hard and firm in the coolness of the air. Looking down at them, I couldn't help myself and touched them lightly with my fingertips.

My body tingled in reaction.

Bending, I picked up the robe from the floor and slid it over my shoulders. The fabric was cool and silkier than I had anticipated. I shivered as it settled over my physique and grazed my oversensitive nipples.

Stepping out of my panties, I felt a rush of adrenaline pump through me. I had never worn a school robe naked before and it was suddenly highly erotic in a very forbidden way.

I ran my hands down the length of my body, momentarily enjoying the feeling through the material before quickly zipping it—securing it around my frame.

Moving to the stall where I had hidden Polyjuice Potion, I paused to take a calming breath before taking out the sample of Pansy's hair.

It was now, or never.

My heart pounded in nervous anticipation as I leaned over the concoction and shook the hairs into the caldron.

Upon contact, the mixture began to bubble and hiss—popping noisily before turning a sickening shade of puce.

An odor—consisting of a combination of burnt hair and acetone—wafted upward and I wrinkled my nose in disgust.

Turning my head away from the stench, I held my breath as I filled a glass with a ladleful of the disgusting looking mixture.

Holding it in my hand, I stared at it apprehensively.

I was suddenly experiencing second thoughts. The memory of what had happened last time was vividly fresh in my mind.

_What if I messed up again?_

I couldn't afford the explanation at the hospital wing. Besides, this one would more than likely get me expelled.

_Was it even worth it?_

Draco's face materialized in front of me out of nowhere. My mouth dry, I scrutinized his face—his brilliant silver eyes . . . his regal cheekbones . . . his magnificent lips . . . his pink tongue as it wet his magnificent lips.

And I thought of what that tongue could do for me.

Could do _to _me.

My body responded—my legs weakening slightly.

This was the only way to get what I wanted. What I _needed_.

It was decided.

With trembling fingers—shaking more in excitement than fear—I picked up the glass and brought it to my lips.

I was confident in myself . . . .

This was going to work.

With one final breath, I opened my mouth and tipped the glass.

It tasted horrible—and I fought the urge to vomit as the goop slid slimily down my throat. But finally, after some struggling, I got it down.

Shifting my weight from one foot to the other, I counted and waited for something to happen—any kind of reaction.

_**One . . . Two . . . Three . .**__ . _

Nothing was happening.

_**Four . . . Five . . . Six . . . **_

I listened to the sound of my breathing, focusing on how my body felt.

_**Seven . . . Eight . . . Nine . . . **_

I began to get worried.

Something was wrong.

_**Ten . . . Eleven . . . Twelve . . . **_

My insecurities came rushing at me full force.

Something wasn't right—I must have made a mistake.

_**Thirteen . . . Fourteen . . . Fifteen . . . **_

Surely, something should have happened by now.

Leaning forward, I stirred the mixture with the ladle and stared into the gunk—trying to see anything that was out of the ordinary.

But I soon realized that I didn't realize what _ordinary_ was in Polyjuice Potion. It didn't look _or_ smell like the potion we had made years ago.

_**Sixteen . . . Seventeen . . . Eighteen . . . **_

Or, did it?

I closed my eyes, trying to imagine it, but honestly, I couldn't remember. Besides, the last batch of Polyjuice Potion that I drank was tainted with cat hair—how could I use that as any sort of control?

My shoulders slumped.

I had messed this up—my only plan. Botched an entire month of planning and now, this wasn't going to happen.

I was disappointed.

Disappointed in myself, disappointed that my hopes had gotten so high, disappointed that—

I was hit with such a sudden wave of nausea that it nearly caused my knees to buckle.

My stomach was crawling—churning as if a thousand snakes were writhing deep within my abdomen.

I gasped as my body began to ripple and contort. I could feel my limbs changing—my face pulling—as I shrunk into the floor by a couple of inches.

My stomach lurched again and I fought the sickness that threatened from my mouth.

I really should have eaten something at supper.

Moaning, I wrapped my arms around my torso and doubled over. It was painful . . . nearly excruciating.

Something was seriously wrong.

But suddenly, just as soon as it started, it was over.

Straightening cautiously, I realized that I was shaking—traumatized by the whole ordeal. Slowly, the nausea left me.

I felt alien and odd. A stranger in my own body—well, in _Pansy's_ body. But I felt happy and proud. It had worked, right?

It had to have.

Stepping from the stall, I walked toward the sinks, getting accustomed to my new legs.

Keeping my head down, I leaned heavily against the sink. With my eyes closed, I slowly counted to ten.

Then, taking a deep breath, I gradually brought my head up.

Phase 4 comp—

My hands flew to my face. "Oh, my God."


	3. Anguis in Herba

_A/N: Hey guys. I didn't die, I swear. It's just that my computer has been sick . . . "VERY" sick . . . like, "haven't had it since the beginning of December" sick. So, I have had to resort to writing in notebooks, post-its, envelopes, and, essentially, any blank surface I could get my hands on. But fear not, devoted readers . . . . My computer is back and better than ever! So, hopefully you haven't left me and will enjoy this next installment. Feel free to review with your thoughts _

_WARNING: Graphic adult situations/language included in this chapter. If you are underage, get offended easily, or do not wish to read these scenarios, please feel free to leave. You have been warned._

_In 3, 2, 1 . . . GO!_

**Chapter 2:**

_**Anguis in Herba**_

Carefully, tentatively, my fingers roamed my features.

Eyes . . . nose . . . mouth . . .

My hands were shaking as I traced the different contours of my face—No, scratch that . . . I was tracing the contours of _Pansy's_ face.

I could feel my heart beating heavily inside of my chest—the sound momentarily blocking out any other noise in the deserted bathroom.

_It worked!_

Pansy's face stretched into a smile—an emotion that seemed out of place against her pointed features.

Studying my reflection, I appreciated my handiwork, tipping my head first this way, and then that.

I couldn't believe it.

My hand remained on my cheek—a tangible reminder that this was reality and the stranger in the mirror was actually me.

Finally, I shook my head—the foreign smile vanishing from my alien face—and forced my eyes away from the mirror.

I was wasting time.

I only had an hour until the Polyjuice Potion wore off and the longer I stood around, alone, in Moaning Myrtle's Bathroom, the less time I had with Draco.

Precious moments were ticking by and I knew that I had to move, because I had all intentions of spending every last second with Draco.

Smoothing my hair, I checked my watch, gave one final, excited look at the mirror, and rushed from the bathroom.

Hurrying down the stairs, I felt my excitement grow and I had to slow my actions, forcing my feet to continue to move at a "normal" pace as to not draw attention to myself.

My plan was going exactly as designed.

I knew exactly where to go, thanks to Harry and Ron's excursions to the Slytherin Common Room 5 years ago.

As I moved, I could feel my borrowed robes swishing against my legs—only reminding me of the fact that I was nude underneath the fabric. I felt exhilarated—alive—and couldn't stop the smile that suddenly overtook my face.

Lost in my mind, I turned a corner . . . and immediately collided with another student.

I jumped back, my heart in my throat.

I didn't recognize the student . . . some young looking girl dressed in Slytherin robes . . . but she was staring at me, her eyes studying me intensely.

My smile dissolved from my face.

I suddenly felt like a fraud—like I was wearing a disguise that everyone else could see right through. I felt self-conscious, and was beginning to second guess quality of my potion.

Of course another Slytherin would be able to tell that I was a fake! And, if this student—this girl that I didn't even know—was able to see that I wasn't actually Pansy, why would Draco be any different?

The girl continued to scrutinize me, without a word, until I finally couldn't take it anymore.

Licking my lips, I administered the worst scowl that I could muster—trying to mimic the exact facial expression I had seen Pansy send my way countless times. "What?"

My voice was harsh and the girl blinked, as if snapping out of a trance. Taking a small step back, she dropped her eyes to the floor. "Oh . . . it's nothing. I just . . . I just thought . . . ."

She was stammering and I sighed in annoyance. "You just thought _what_?"

The girl lifted her eyes momentarily and when they caught my gaze, I saw they were terrified. "I just thought that you were gone this weekend, that's all. I guess you just scared me. I'm sorry."

_Oh, my God . . . she thinks I'm Pansy!_

My heart soared, bringing a new wave of adrenaline with it.

Keeping in character, I pressed my hands on my hips. "Yeah, well, you should be sorry. Because, I _am_ here . . . so you can just get out of my way."

The girl nodded quickly and, keeping her eyes trained on the floor, stepped quickly to the side and let me pass.

Keeping my head held high, I sauntered past—doing my best to maintain the power that I had just exuded on the poor student.

I rounded another corner and paused, panting slightly. Leaning my hand on the wall, my shoulders slumped as I allowed my façade to disappear.

I had _never_ treated another student, hell . . . another _person_ like that. Ever.

Seeing the student's face flash in my mind, I felt terrible . . . and yet absolutely _powerful_ at the same time.

I had passed the test. My potion was strong and I realized that from here on out, there was nothing that could go wrong.

Taking a breath, I straightened and, squaring my shoulders once more, I continued on my way to the dungeon.

I descended the stairs quickly and turned one final corner.

And there it was . . . the large, empty stone wall in front of me that led to the Slytherin Common Room . . . and to Draco . . . .

I could feel my excitement grow.

Stepping up to it, I looked up at it in wonderment.

But I wasn't able to enjoy it, because suddenly, a terrible sinking feeling filled my chest.

I now realized that there _were_ things that could go wrong . . . _terribly_ wrong:

I didn't know the password.

My eyes wide, I faced the blank wall, my thoughts going a mile a minute. I felt nauseous. All of this work . . . all of this preparation . . . and for what?

I glanced over my shoulder.

It was still _fairly _early. Perhaps a Slytherin would be coming back from a late night snack or study session. Or, perhaps the fellow Slytherin student that I had altercated would come back.

But, to my dismay, the hallway remained empty.

The clock was ticking and I could feel the pressure with each second that passed.

I had no idea how to get inside.

Stepping closer to the wall, I muttered a few passwords that came to my head: _Basilisk, Serpentine, Saalazar_—but, even as the words were leaving my mouth, I knew my attempts were pitifully futile.

Reaching out, I touched the black stone wall in front of me.

The rock was cool and slightly damp from the atmosphere of the dungeon under my fingertips.

Slowly, I ran my hand along the wall, feeling for a crack or crevice, attempting to find an alternative way in—as if there were some secret button or lever that would open the wall.

I know that it was stupid—knew that only a password would open the doorway and allow access into the common room, but I couldn't help it.

And, just as expected, the stone was smooth under my touch—completely unblemished.

I felt like I was going to cry—I couldn't believe that I had missed such a simple, yet crucial aspect of the plan.

Finally, I had to make a hard choice: I still had enough Polyjuice Potion left to come back . . . I would just need to be more prepared.

Dejected, I turned to leave, fighting the tears that threatened to fall from my eyes.

Taking a single step, I took one final, sad look over my shoulder, and suddenly halted unexpectedly—my heart beating loudly in my ears.

The wall was slowly opening.

Holding my breath, I watched—frozen in place, my eyes wide—as Millicent Bulstrode emerged from the Common Room.

She looked up, her eyes locking with mine, and she stopped, her eyebrows knit together tightly on her brow in confusion. "Pansy?"

I turned to face her.

Millicent took a few hesitant steps toward me. "I thought you were away with your parents this weekend."

I shrugged as nonchalantly as I could muster. "Change of plans."

Millicent studied me in silence, and I could feel a bead of sweat form and drip down my lower back.

The tension forming between us could be cut with a knife. But finally, Millicent broke the silence: "Why are you just standing out in the hallway?"

"I forgot the password." I laughed nervously and Millicent scowled at me.

The smile melted from my face and I swallowed thickly.

Millicent studied me suspiciously for a moment more.

Finally, as if she were satisfied, she shrugged. "It's _Anguis in Herba_."

I recognized it as Latin, and my eyes dropped to the floor in thought as I quickly translated it in my mind. In realization, I suddenly began to laugh.

Millicent frowned at me. "Something funny?"

"No, it's just a very _fitting _password." I cleared my throat hastily. "I can't believe I forgot it."

Millicent lifted her eyebrows at me. "Are you feeling alright, Pansy?"

I nodded. "Sure, I'm fine."

Millicent rolled her eyes, but let it go. "Okay . . . ."

Giving me one last hesitant look, she turned to leave.

My plan was back in action and I felt a new wave of adrenaline pump through my veins.

Taking a deep breath, I faced the wall, but I suddenly thought of something and turned back. "Hey, Millicent."

She stopped and turned back, a look of exasperation on her broad face. "What?"

"Do you know where Draco is right now?" My heart raced as his name—his _actual_ name—slipped from my lips.

Millicent shrugged. "His room, I suppose."

"And where is that?"

I regretted the words as soon as they came out of my mouth and I bit my lip in fear.

Millicent stared at me with a look of disgust on her face. "Really, Pansy?"

I shrugged, too scared to say anything more.

She sighed—a loud, exasperated sound. "I don't know what you're doing, Pansy . . . but okay. I'll play along."

My heart skipped a beat.

"You go through the Common Room and go up the stairs on the left."

She was speaking at me as if I was a two-year old, but I didn't even care about her patronizing tone. I was too busy mentally putting her words to memory as I counted my lucky stars.

"It's the last door on the right." Her voice suddenly turned sarcastic. "Do you think you can remember that, or do you require a guide?"

I nodded and had to try very hard not to smile. "I've got it."

Millicent crossed her arms across her chest. "Seriously, Pansy. Are you okay?"

"Yeah. Just having one of those nights, I guess."

Millicent sighed. "Whatever."

Not waiting for a retort, she turned on her heel and strode away.

Silently, I watched her leave, feeling slightly nauseous. That was close . . . a little _too_ close.

But as soon as her back disappeared around the corner, my queasiness was replaced once more with excitement.

The fates were smiling upon me once again.

Facing the wall, I took a deep breath and uttered the password: _Anguis in Herba_.

The wall came to life, cracking on one side as it slowly slid into itself, revealing a thin door that lead into the Common Room.

My pulse increased.

Taking a deep breath, I held it momentarily before releasing it. Then, smoothing the front of my robes, I took a hesitant step through the doorway.

Standing on the landing just inside the door, I stared in awe. The Common Room was exquisite.

At this time of night, the room was virtually empty and I took the opportunity to allow my eyes to travel the length of the room, taking it all in.

I always knew, deep down, that the Slytherin Common Room would be immaculate, but I had never, in my wildest dreams, imagined it to be like _this_:

Leather and silk, in opulent silver, green, and black, covered the walls, floor, and furniture. On one side of the room, a single fireplace roared, casting a low glow of light, yet also bathed the room in dim shadows that created a romantic, yet eerie atmosphere.

Expensive paintings hung on the walls, giving the room an even more sophisticated feel.

I felt plain and insignificant in the chic room, and I finally had to force my eyes away from the décor. Glancing quickly at my watch, I felt a sudden pang of urgency.

I only had half an hour until the effects of the potion would wear off.

Shifting my eyes to the left, I noticed a staircase leading to an upper floor of the Slytherin House.

_Draco's room_.

Keeping calm, I crossed the expansive lobby and made my way steadily up the stairs.

At the landing, I turned down the hallway and began to move past the rooms. Silently, to help calm myself, I counted the doors, but kept my eyes trained on the one that appeared on the end.

_The last door on the right_.

After what felt like an eternity, I finally made it to Draco's door. Reaching out, I realized that my hand was shaking as I placed it on the doorknob, so I took a deep, calming breath.

Then, releasing it slowly, I quietly turned the knob—_ it was now, or never_—and pushed the door open.

Stepping inside, I closed the door gently behind me and looked around.

Draco's private suite was, in a word: _Draco_.

Lit only by the thin moonlight that wafted through the open curtains, I could see that it was decorated in simple, yet elegant black leather furniture: A couch occupied a wall by the window, a chair on the other side of the room.

Bold paintings that were strong, dark, and deep—screaming almost audibly of Draco's taste—covered the walls.

Underneath the largest piece of art was an immaculate desk made of rich mahogany. The surface was nearly spotless, save for a few random pieces of parchment, a quill that lay haphazardly outside of its ink well, and various textbooks stacked into a loose pile. His robe was folded neatly over the back of his desk chair.

Shifting my eyes, my breath suddenly caught in my throat.

On a very large, plush looking bed in the middle of the room was Draco. He was asleep underneath silver sheets of silk. It was a warm night and his chest was bare, the material covering him low on the hips and hugging his body so tightly that I had no reason to wonder anymore if he slept in the nude.

I felt a blush spread, the heat flowing up my neck until it settled into my cheeks.

I was suddenly very nervous, my mouth drying.

Draco shifted with a small moan, adjusting his hips to a more comfortable position. The moonlight caught his luminous hair and cast a mesmerizing shadow across his bare skin, accentuating his hard core and wide chest—and bringing my full attention to the unarguably large bulge that was now displayed between his legs.

Staring, my body reacted, my nipples extending, pushing torturously against Pansy's robe as a familiar ache appeared between my thighs.

I took a deep breath.

_It was now, or never._

"Draco?" My voice broke through the silence of the room like velvet and my body began to tingle as his name left my lips.

Draco stirred once more, but didn't quite regain consciousness.

I tried again, taking a step toward the luxurious bed. "Draco."

In the moonlight, I saw his eyes slowly open. He blinked drowsily, lines of confusion creasing his porcelain face. Slowly sitting up on his elbows, he swiveled his head, staring unfocusedly until his silvery orbs fell upon me. They almost appeared to glow in the moonlight and my mouth went dry.

"Pansy?" His voice was thick with sleep, but I could still hear an unquestionable edge of annoyance.

I took another step toward him. "Hello, Draco."

His eyes narrowed at me, bringing out the sharpness of his features. He was suddenly wide awake. "What the fuck are you doing here, Pansy?"

"I was lonely." Trying to sound as sexy as possible, my hands roamed lightly over my body, accentuating Pansy's curves. "And I thought that perhaps you were a little lonely, too."

"Jesus, woman." Draco's jaw hardened. "Do you think about anything besides sex?"

"Oh, come on Draco," I prodded. "Don't you want to have a bit of _fun_?"

Biting my lip, I slowly unzipped my robe to my navel—amazed at my confidence—and revealed that I wasn't wearing anything underneath.

Draco sighed in exasperation. "Pansy, I'm tired . . . I've had a very long day and I have Quidditch practice in the morning." His words held the air of a threat, but I noticed that his eyes never left my body.

While he watched, I silently slipped the robe from my shoulders and allowed the material to naturally fall to my feet, exposing my naked physique.

Vulnerable in the moonlight, I covered my breasts with my hands, palming at them slowly, as my heart raced against my ribs.

Draco's eyes darkened slightly.

"Come _on_, Draco." My voice was breathy. "Just a little fun . . . . You won't even have to do a thing. I promise."

Adjusting my stance, I let my hand travel down the length of my body until it settled between my legs. Silky juices coated my fingers, and I moaned lightly—my head falling back—as I touched my most sensitive tissue.

Draco didn't say a word as his eyes remained on me, but he didn't have to. I could see that my actions were causing his body to react. The prominent bulge between his spread legs was slowly becoming more defined, pressing against the silky sheets.

I took his bodily reaction as an invitation and crossed the short distance to his bed.

Slowly, deliberately, I crawled onto the bed. The sheets were cool against my flesh as I inched forward, my fingers gingerly raking across Draco's skin.

Straddling his body, I could feel his member stiffen against me, pressing against my opening through the sheets. I sighed, rocking my hips against him as I leaned forward, my naked breasts pressing against the warmth of his chest.

My lips hovered inches above his, my breath hot against his face. "Please, Draco . . . ."

Snaking my tongue out, I licked the corner of his mouth seductively.

With a growl, Draco suddenly grabbed the back of my neck and pulled my face to his, crushing our lips together. I opened my lips and he forced his tongue deep within my mouth. I moaned against him as I swiveled my hips, grinding my hot center against his erection.

I broke for air, panting heavily—my lips swollen—and locked eyes with him. "I want to taste you."

Without waiting for an answer, I kissed him quickly on the mouth before moving to his jaw line . . . planting kisses on his neck . . . his chest.

Sliding down his body, I paid homage to one of his nipples, biting it gently, and I heard him inhale sharply. Then, keeping my eyes trained on him, I continued lower, my tongue licking down his sternum . . . his stomach . . . his hips.

Finally, kneeling between his spread legs, I gathered the silken sheets in my hands and slowly pulled the material from his body, revealing his hardened manhood.

I stared at it in awe. It was beautiful—standing at attention—hard and proud in the evening air.

Licking my lips in anticipation, I leaned forward, my hands pressed against his thighs, and took him deep within my mouth.

Immediately, he stiffened more, filling my mouth as I sucked at him hungrily, mesmerized by his incredible taste.

Lifting my eyes so I could watch Draco's reaction, I swirled my tongue around his thick shaft and almost smiled when Draco's eyes rolled slightly, his head falling back onto his pillow.

My nails scratched against his inner thighs, moving higher until my fingertips found his testicles. Cupping them gently, I stroked them, pulling at them lightly as my head bobbed fervently up and down his length.

He groaned and suddenly his fingers were twisted into my hair in an attempt to control my pace.

Taking him as deep as I could, I moaned against him. My hands traveled up to his stomach and, tracing the contours of his deep set abs, I felt him tense.

Lightly using my teeth, I dragged my mouth slowly—painstakingly—up his erect member, pausing just at the tip. Using my tongue, I tasted his slit as I sucked hard on the engorged head and I heard him swear out loud.

I couldn't help but smile.

I could feel that he was beginning to lose it.

Gasping, he lifted his hips toward me, urging me to take him deeper, but I wouldn't comply. Instead, I sucked at the tip as hard as I could before, without warning, suddenly released him from the warmth of my mouth with an audible _pop_.

His eyes flew open and he lifted his head to stare at me.

Coyly, I wiped my mouth with the back of my hand before crawling up the length of his body. Placing one leg on either side of his body, I straddled him once more.

I could feel the heat from his body and my pussy began to throb. Carefully, I positioned myself above his rigid erection. He watched me silently, his eyes nearly black with lust.

Reaching between my legs, I gripped him tightly with my hand and guided him to my opening, taking just an inch inside.

He growled deep in his throat when I paused.

Sinking lower, I gasped, my head falling back as took in even more of his length. I paused to let my body adjust to his girth, my eyes rolling slightly.

Finally, with a moan, I sank flush with his lap. He was completely inside of me and I halted briefly, reveling in the moment.

He felt amazing, just as I had always dreamed—stretching me . . . filling me like I knew only he would be able to.

Inhaling deeply, I slowly began to move against him.

Quickly, I found a steady rhythm, biting my lip as he hit spots repeatedly deep within my walls.

Breathing heavily, I arched my back, allowing him to go even deeper as my hands found my breasts once more. Palming my swollen mounds, I moaned loudly.

Reaching out, Draco placed his hands tightly on my hips. I could feel his fingers digging into my flesh as he tried to guide me, but I resisted.

I was controlling the pace.

Raising high on my knees, I felt my muscles constrict around him, milking his cock and I sighed loudly. Then, I sank—hard—taking him all in once more.

Draco jaw hardened as I continued to torture him with my unwavering tempo.

Taking him to the hilt, I swiveled my hips in small circles. "More?"

Draco snarled—his jaw set.

Locking my eyes with him, I rose slowly, elevating high on my knees again. "Say it."

Draco's eyes narrowed into slits. In response, he gripped my hips with unbelievable force before lifting his hips and slamming them—hard—violating me with his rock hard dick.

I cried out as pleasure radiated through my body.

A hint of a smile crossed Draco's face—the corner of his mouth tipping mischievously—and he rocked his pelvis once more, burying himself deep.

Panting, I increased my pace.

Leaning forward, I placed my hands on his strong chest for leverage. Then, lifting my ass off of his lap, I began to ride him hard.

Gripping my waist, Draco lifted his hips, meeting me with powerful thrusts and I began to whimper.

Draping my body over his, my nails dug into his flesh as my lips crashed down against his. Snaking my tongue out, I invaded his mouth, slipping it around his warm cavern.

Draco lifted his head off of the pillow, meeting my kiss as he sucked on my tongue passionately.

Groaning, I moved my hands behind his neck, pulling him closer.

Encircling his arms behind my back, Draco suddenly sat up. Keeping me pressed against his lap, I wrapped my legs around his waist, sighing against his mouth as his bare chest rubbing against my nipples, causing ripples of pleasure to travel down the length of my spine.

Breaking the kiss, Draco bent his head and sucked on my neck, directly below my ear.

Tipping my head back, I allowed him better access, my hips still moving against him.

Buried deep inside of me, Draco's lips traveled lower, moving across my collarbone, over the swell of my breast, before he finally sucked my left nipple deep within his mouth. I moaned loudly, my fingers twisting into his platinum hair, holding him in place.

He bit down and my pussy tensed involuntarily around him. Gripping his shoulders, I stopped moving—my vision going blank as he continued to thrust against my immobile hips.

Pressing my face against the top of his head, I inhaled his scent. "Draco, you feel so good." He hit a spot deep within me and I inhaled sharply. "Oh God . . . yes . . . right there . . . ." My voice was breathy against his hair.

Taking control, Draco increased his speed, pulsing inside of me.

"_Fuck_!" I tipped my head back, my back arching. "Oh, God . . . . yes! Fuck me, Draco. Oh, please, fuck me! "

When Draco spoke, my nipple was still between his teeth, his breath coming out hot against my swollen breast. He lifted his eyes to meet mine. "You want to be fucked, do you?"

I nodded breathlessly against the top of his head.

Without warning, he released my nipple from his mouth and roughly pushed me from his lap. I landed hard on my back with a squeak.

Rolling onto his knees, Draco gripped my ankles tightly and roughly pushed my legs back and open. Then, adjusting himself between my spread legs, he positioned himself at my entrance and forcefully entered me.

Stars exploded in front of my eyes.

Arching my back, my hands twisting in the silver sheets as Draco's hips worked like a piston, pumping at a furious cadence.

Panting, I watched his well built body, my eyes traveling the length of his beautiful frame—mesmerized by the way his muscles flexed and rippled beneath his skin. My eyes stopped, watching as a bead of sweat formed on Draco's collarbone. With each thrust, it grew bigger, the moisture gathering in the deep hollow by his neck, until it finally spilled over, leaving a slippery path as it traveled down his hard chest, past his taunt stomach, and finally dripped off of his body and onto the bed.

Running his hands up my legs, Draco suddenly grabbed my hips, lifting me from the bed—pulling me harder into his groin.

Swearing loudly, I began chanting his name, not caring if anyone else could hear us.

Releasing my hands from the sheets I gripped his firm buttocks, drawing him closer and deeper.

The room was filled with the glorious sounds of animalistic sex. I couldn't stop the sounds that were coming from my mouth—my throat even starting to go a little raw—and Draco was breathing heavily, his thighs slapping against my flesh loudly.

I felt an abrupt warmth building in my womb—a familiar feeling that radiated from my abdomen all the way out to my extremities.

My vision started to tunnel and my head fell back. "Oh God, Draco. I'm gonna come . . . I'm gonna . . ."

Draco's thumb flicked my clit and I screamed his name—the sound reverberating around his room—as my orgasm washed over me, a repeated wave of pleasure that pulsed through my entire body.

My pussy convulsed around his cock—spasming violently—but Draco continued to thrust.

Grunting, he leaned over me, his hands on either side of my head. His hair was plastered to his forehead, his jaw set, as he put his back into each powerful stroke.

I could feel that he was close to release and I wrapped my legs tightly around his waist. Fighting my vice-like grip, he tipped his pelvis, driving into me once more. He exclaimed—a guttural grunt that came from deep in his throat—and I felt his body go rigid as his hot seed filled me.

Panting, Draco collapsed on top of me, his face pressed against my neck.

Hugging him tightly, my hands slipped over his sweaty back, and I could feel his heart pounding against my chest.

Moments passed and I took it all in as I slowly floated back to Earth.

Finally, Draco stirred.

Inhaling deeply, he pushed himself from me and, with a sigh, flipped onto his back. Grabbing his wand from the bedside table, he performed a quick cleansing charm before he threw one arm behind his head nonchalantly.

Sprawled on top of the sheets, his muscular body was on display, glistening in the moonlight and my gaze dragged over his form, amazed at the pure confidence he exuded.

Getting to his face, he met my eyes with a sideways glance.

He lifted a questioning eyebrow and I stared at him blankly.

His face hardened—his eyes narrowing at me. "We're done. Now, get the fuck out."

I flinched involuntarily, but a smile quickly spread across my face, replacing my unease. I didn't even care that he was throwing me out—that he had just fucked me and was kicking me to the curb like a piece of trash.

Because I had won.

I had known what I wanted and I had gone out and taken it.

And it was amazing.

Sliding from the bed, I crossed the room, bent, and picked up my discarded robe. Slipping it over my shoulders, I zipped it around my naked body.

Running a hand through my hair, I looked over my shoulder. "See you later, Draco."

Draco was watching me with a wary gaze and he sighed heavily.

Crossing the short distance to the door, I pulled it open and entered the hallway. As the door closed quietly behind me, I couldn't help the victorious smile that crossed my face.

Leaning against the wall, I began to laugh quietly to myself.

I couldn't believe what had just happened. And, even though I was tingling—my body still on fire, I touched my face to prove to myself that this was reality.

His scent, smelling of masculinity and sex was still apparent on my flesh and I leaned my face into the palm of my hand, inhaling deeply.

I could still feel his touch, his lips . . . his body.

_I had won_.

Pushing myself from the wall, I hurried down the hall, still giddy with my triumph.

I had won. And nobody could bring me down.


End file.
